Masked Royal Novels & Stories

The rich scent of roses and the soft strains of a string quartet filled the air as the guests murmured excitedly, their finery rivaling even the most resplendent of royal weddings. As Arielle and Ethan reached the end of the aisle, Jonathan stood at the altar, his eyes glistening with emotion. His best man, James, patted him reassuringly on the back, a knowing smile playing on his lips. Jonathan's chestnut hair was perfectly styled, and his bespoke tuxedo seemed to have been crafted especially for this moment. Arielle's heart swelled with love as her father escorted her down the aisle, her tears threatening to spill over once more. As they reached the altar, Ethan gently lifted Arielle's vei

They turned as soon as they saw us, as though we’d interrupted something private. “Amaya, come here. Jordan, you’re dismissed,” Christian ordered, his tone clipped. Jordan gave me a sympathetic look before walking away. I approached and stood quietly until Christian spoke again. “Amaya, this is Reverend McDonald,” Christian said, introducing the man. I shook his hand. “He’s here to give you your royal mark.” I stared in disbelief. The royal mark was a tattoo of the family crest, etched onto the back of every royal’s neck once they came of age. I had resisted getting mine—I wanted to earn it first.

It was crafted from nightstone, glittering darkly in the moonlight. "This belongs to you," she said, gently placing it on my head. "The Princess of Silvermoon must wear her own crown." I felt its weight, and my eyes instantly welled up. For so many years, I had given up so much for Kaelan. Including my family's honor. "Rosalie." My father stepped forward and pulled me into his arms. "Welcome home." His embrace was warm and safe. It felt like being a child again. "This time, I have found a man worthy of you," my father said, his voice soft with love. "Monarch Damien of the Obsidian Throne. His blood is ancient. His power and wealth are absolute."

The pieces of the puzzle were aligning, and it was up to me to decipher their meaning and uncover the hidden truths that lay beneath the surface. The information that had come to light left me in a state of bewilderment. A male with striking green eyes and midnight-dark hair, bearing the same birthmark as mine on his shoulder. The very same mark that had been deemed the mark of the alpha king over generations. It was a symbol of power and lineage, a mark that held immense significance within the royal bloodline. And yet, the irony was palpable — that I, the oft-dismissed prince of the palace, was the one who had inherited this sacred mark.

Damien was looking devastatingly handsome in his black tailored suit, embroidered with intricate gold vine patterns that run symmetrically down the chest, sleeves, and torso. This gave the entire garment a royal , almost mythic presence. His shoulders and cape were adorned with gem-like embellishments that shimmer like starlight, creating a powerful contrast against the dark fabric. Completing his look was an ornate gold masquerade mask on his face. This mask was shaped with sharp, sculpted lines and raised filigree, which gave off an aura of mystery, nobility and untouchable authority. The women and girls fawned over him and even some celebrities were swooning over his gorgeousness

Jenifer ordered. "Yes, Miss Jenifer," the royal guard replied. "Marcelo, come to your senses," Jenifer said. "Jenifer, Marcelo," Alexa shouted as she came into the royal guest room. "Your Majesty, I'm sorry, the crown prince is unconscious because he was stabbed by a poisoned sword," Jenifer said with tears in her eyes. "It's okay, I'll heal him," replied Alexa who remained calm. Unlike Alexa, Michael was very panicked to see his favorite son impaled by a poisoned sword and was lying helpless. Michael summoned the royal kestria to bring Marcelo to his room, several palace healers were summoned tonight as well to heal the crown prince.

Of which the 3 of them knew, that if they did not do as she said, then surely all of them, will get their heads detached from their body right away. On the contrary in this moment of intense, Francesca Oliver, were able to noticed something on Knight Mathild, first it was the her strength, second her attire and third is a sliver badge on her chest. It was the insignia of the Royal Family Secret Service, a large Tower shield covering a large tree and a dragon behind it.

I extend my hand and pluck out a box of tea with a vivid painting of a ballroom and nobility from the regency era. The labeling states Royal British Earl Grey. Oooh, Interesting! I'd like to try this sometime. Placing it back, my eyes drift to a box with a painting of a silver dragon soaring over an emerald European countryside. A determined-looking medieval knight clad in armor sits atop the dragon's neck. The Knights' dark blue surcoat whipped in the wind behind him, a blue Christian Cross in the middle of his doublet. Sword raised in one hand while in the other a shield covered with the same Cross. Tufts of his blonde hair escape through his open helmet.

she urges before her fingers leave my chin. * * * * * * * ABEL EVERHART'S POV The great crown shimmers under the light of the morning sun as it sets on a raised platform surrounded by ten masked guards, some who must be her Majesty's men who stole uniform last night from the real guards. King Elon's throne sets not far from the crown, and another equally guilded and heavily cushioned seat beside it. My guess is that it is meant for Queen Rowena, whom he desires to be his Queen.

They wanted to apply rouge and lip paint on her but she refused. “Thank you Hesalth,” said Meryl with a pale blush rising on her cheeks. She wasn’t used to such attention or flattery. She was only used to being abused by her stepmother and stepsister. The thought of those two ladies brought back the painful memories of the people in her estate. She took a deep breath. She had to find a way of going back to them. Her eyes fell on the two dashing men in front of her. Brishor was wearing a red and golden jacket over white shirt and black pants. There were gold chains across his neck. The crown over his head was made from pure gold crafted into various types of leaves, each tipped with a large g